


Dr. Strangelove, or How Ladybug Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Lap Pillow

by clairelutra (exosolarmoon)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack, F/M, Humor, Sexual Humor, Somnophilia, oh thank god ao3 added back in the diff love square corners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chat is stressed. Ladybug offers lap pillows. </p><p>It... doesn't end well.</p><p>Hard T.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dr. Strangelove, or How Ladybug Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Lap Pillow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheJulyCentury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJulyCentury/gifts), [calloffyourethics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calloffyourethics/gifts).



> see bottom for warnings
> 
> I AM TO BLAME FOR N O T H I N G
> 
> beta'd by the wonderful [mirthalia](http://mirthalia.tumblr.com/)!!

It was the furrow in his brow while he stared out over the city that made her suggest it.

"C'mon Chat," she'd cajoled. "We're done for the day. What harm could a little stargazing do?"

It hadn't taken much to persuade him. Of course, stargazing hadn't been her end goal.

This had.

_This_ being Chat, dead to the world on a quiet out-of-the-way rooftop, head pillowed in her lap and extremities dangling over the ledge.

He was cute when he slept. Ladybug remembered her mother once said that children looked like angels when they slept because they were holy terrors when they were awake, and she found herself empathizing.

(Of course, he was cute when he was awake, too, but then he was more of a sexy-bad-boy-slash-Hollywood-nerd-stereotype kind of cute than the straight-up angelic cute she was seeing now.)

She ran her fingers through the head of messy blond hair in her lap, wishing she could feel it through her gloves. Was it soft? Harsh? Dye-damaged or natural? Well cared-for, or only washed with the slightest of trims to keep it at a manageable length?

She'd never seen it vary much in length, but at the same time she had trouble picturing Chat spending extra time on his hair, of all things.

_Then again..._ She considered her 'gentlemanly' partner, remembered how he'd flexed for Marinette, and wondered if he'd ever spent hours gelling his hair into just the right amount of mess.

Probably.

In her lap, Chat snorted a little, as though he'd seen her imagining of him standing over a sink with several extra-strength-hold gel bottles scattered around him. His feet twitched like a cat's as he dreamed, and Ladybug once again found herself marveling at how _cute_ her partner was in sleep. Just _cu_ —

He rolled over.

Not off the ledge—

(She almost wished he had.)

—No, he rolled straight into _her_.

The comfortable, platonic distance he'd kept from her crotch as he slept shrank to a rather uncomfortable, distinctly- _not_ -platonic distance of zero-point-zero centimeters. His nose nudged gently into the junction of her thighs, sleep-slow hot breath sinking through her suit.

Ladybug suddenly felt very warm in several interesting places, and only one of those places was thanks to his breath. She'd yanked her hand off his head in her surprise, and now it hovered awkwardly over his shoulder as she battled with the mad urge to shove him off the roof.

_It's a long way down_ , she told her trembling, undecided hand, trying to be firm. _We **don't** want to kill him._

He nuzzled forward, humming softly, and Ladybug swallowed a squeak, thighs locking up tight against the pulse of tingling fire the pressure sent rolling through her body.

_Sure we wanna kill him_ , said her mad urges.

But that sure was an attractive head of blond hair down between— _Brain **no!**_

Ladybug drew a sharp inhale through her nose to try to control her now-erratic breathing. Shoving Chat off the roof was not an option. Neither was letting him stay where he was. Neither was waking him up and alerting him to the true nature of his pillow.

Maybe if she inched away very, very slowly...

She made a careful, minute shift backwards, face getting hotter by the second as Chat continued to dream of nuzzly, mumbly things.

"L'dybug," she made out from his string of quiet nonsense as his body curled around hers protectively, gangly arms winding about her waist before she could manage to extract herself so much as an inch.

Okay, maybe her dignity could handle waking him up.

"Chat!" she hissed, laying her decided-but-now-even-more-tremulous hand on his shoulder.

He grumbled and buried his face further into his 'pillow.'

Ladybug choked on a funny little _hyek!_ noise, toes clenching in her suit's shoes as his nose pushed firmly against her suit close to some very important places.

"Chat!" she hissed again, although this time the hiss was less intentional and more because her voice was just _gone_.

"Nuh," said Chat, pressing harder still, twitching a little until it was his mouth that was touching the suit close to those important places.

He exhaled hot air over the area and Ladybug's eyes slammed shut of their own accord, back arching at the wave of pleasure that squeezed her insides from head to toe. When she managed to pry them back open again she found that her thighs had fallen open, leaving the path clear for Chat's unconscious — groping? Molestation? Pleasuring...? — to progress.

"Ch-Chat— _mmn!_ " she got out on a moan as he nuzzled and exhaled yet again. _Oh god, this shouldn't feel this good!_ "Chat, wake up!"

He stiffened abruptly, eyes snapping open and unfocused. "Fire?"

Ladybug breathed a little internal sigh of relief... or possibly disappointment. Or both. She refused to identify which.

She didn't answer his dream-induced question, only looked down at him past her heaving chest.

She watched his gaze go from her face to her stomach to her crotch and back to her face before it clicked for him.

He launched himself out of her lap like he'd been fired from a catapult. "Sorry! Holy— I am so sorry! I'm so— _shit_ —"

"Hush," she snapped, face burning even brighter at the blush she could only just make out on his. "You'll wake the whole neighborhood."

He continued to apologize, though much more quietly now. "I am so-"

Ladybug interrupted the ramble almost immediately. "I am never, _ever_ letting you sleep in my lap again."

Ever.

_She meant it._

(She was never _ever_ going to get the image of his head between her thighs out of her head.)

(She firmly told herself that that was a _very bad thing_.)

"No, ma'am," he responded immediately. He said it so sharply she almost thought he was going to snap off a salute.

"Right, well, we've stargazed," she hurried on, desperate to escape this new, horribly awkward kind of hell. "And it's late and my parents will wonder where I am."

She pushed herself back, up onto the roof, and discovered her legs no longer worked. She stumbled wildly for a second before Chat caught her by the forearms, demanding "Are you okay?" in near panic.

"I-I'm great! Fine. Wonderful. F-fantastic— _um!_ "

He blinked at her, the followed her gaze to where his hot, hot, hot hands were still wrapped around her arms. He yanked them back like she was on fire.

She might have _actually_ been on fire. She certainly felt like it.

"I-I-I—" she stuttered, wondering if people could die from blushing too much. Maybe she should embarrass herself more to see if she could just keel over where she stood and save herself some trouble.

"I'm! I'm just—" She took a large, shuddering breath. "I'm going home now."

Turning, she walked away and managed to get to the other edge of the roof without falling flat on her face, which felt like a pretty amazing accomplishment at the moment. It was possible her standards had dropped drastically in the past few minutes.

She did miss her yo-yo toss two times before getting a decent hold on an outcropping, but after the way she'd almost failed to stand up the two misses felt like acceptable losses instead of utter humiliations.

Chat sounded distinctly worried when he asked, "Are you going to get home all right?"

"Of course," she said, having realized that death-by-blush was probably not going to take her life any time soon, but that death by long drop might be an option. She would probably have less to worry about if she ended up a red-and-black smear on the ground than if she actually did make it home safe, given the non-fatal properties of blushes, but Chat sounded like he could use a bit of reassurance.

"I-I am really sorry," he apologized again, and she didn't have to see him to hear the wince in his voice.

She sighed. "It's okay, kitty. You were asleep. Let's just... head home now."

"...Okay."

She didn't end her life as a stain on the pavement that night (though there were a few close calls), and she did make it home safely.

She hoped Chat had managed the same, and proceeded to spend the rest of the night trying very hard to not think about heads of messy blond hair in very interesting places.

**Author's Note:**

> additional warnings: ever-so-slight dub-con (of the 'i really didn't know i was doing that to you' sort), suicide mentioned in a joking manner ("oh god she wished she could die right now")
> 
> stay safe folks!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [“Paging Dr. Strangelove: There's a Critical Case in the Blueball Unit.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295374) by [BullySquadess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess)
  * [Not a practical deterrent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12471872) by [Chiomi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiomi/pseuds/Chiomi)




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